Artist: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

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Song:The Escapist
Album:Everything Is BorrowedGenres:Pop
Year:2008 Length:316 sec

Lyrics:

All these walls were never really there,
Nor the ceiling or the chair.
I’m eking weeks of peace at the beach
I see the breezes weave the trees,
These walls, you’ll find, are yours and mine
Defined not by them, I
I’m in times that lie behind my eyelids,
The sunset still the rising silence,

(Chorus)
I’ll not feel no fear
Cos' I‘m not really here
I’m nowhere near here

There’s no rain on roof that grates and beats me
My favourite tree breaking light to pieces
Sprinkling, sharded light on me
Throw a stone as hard as you can
And hearing with hand not here at land
Nothing taxi, dusting sand
My window world spins and twirls,
The walls then fall, I recall the sort
White clouds white wash faded spotless
The weighty shadows, ranges of rocks
The cold is all illusion thought up
Stroll on the shore, snooze and explore
All possibilities in each new morning,
‘til satisfied reaching out, yawning
Fish in a big dish, some rice and spice,
Salt over shoulder, never salted so tight
The truth I have told was silence sometimes
But who’s soul does not hide any crimes
Wrapped in walls, encircled by work
The walls fall - the story occurs
No barrier, no boundary or ‘low us ID’s
The freedom to stay off straight
Be fiend or friend, cause no harm but charm - the peaceful end

(Chorus x2)

Pale, ancient woods, strew white sandy bays
This ugly room pales away today
I’m swimming in the ocean
I sink slow motion
Fingers, toes, floating
Every year ‘til yesterday
I see the eternal setting sea
I compare all this to me,
It’s all fleeting momentary me
I blink my eyes, this is reminding me
Life flies in the blink of an eye
The old die for reasons, new tides for seasons
New life born is like teasing
All these walls were really never there
Nor the ceiling or the chair
I’m eking weeks of peace at the beach
I see the breezes weave the trees
I am not here at all,
You are dearly fooled,
I see bristling trees, the shush at the sea
Mischievous
Fluttering seagulls
No.
I’m not trapped in a box, so I am glancing at rocks
I’m dancing off docks
Since this stance began
That’s where I am

(Chorus x2)

So done.




 

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